Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Smack My Beach Up

OK, here are two little stories of my own (since not too many have been submitted lately, you lazy bums) and both of them took place at Beach Rock in Zeebrugge (every year it has a different name because the organisation really likes to suck up to its sponsors ; so it can be 'Axion Beach Rock' or 'Lada Beach Rock' or 'National Manure Inc. Beach Rock', anything goes).

The first time I was there I had to do an interview. I didn't have a backstage pass for some reason, but as the artist -the singer of Breakbeat Era- came to pick me up, this wasn't a problem. So we did the interview and afterwards, I naturally wanted to return to the frontstage. But as I came to the checkpoint, some boneheaded security guy didn't want to let me go through - because I didn't have a pass. I patiently tried to explain to him that I didn't want to go in the backstage - I wanted to go out. I didn't want instant free drinks, I wanted to queue for ages so I could pay for them. I didn't want to rub up to celebrities, I wanted to rub up to drunk teenagers. So we argued for about ten minutes but to no avail. The only reply I got was something along the lines of 'befehl ist befehl'. In the end I had to go and find someone higher up in the festival hierarchy -who probably had more important things on his mind- who could talk some sense into this moron. Eventually, I was set free, even though the security did give me a look that clearly said "I'll beat you up later when I get the chance" . ***

The security guy wouldn't let me take his picture, but these gentlemen just might be some of his chums.

A year later, I was on the same festival again and this time I did have a backstage pass, hurray! And better still: I didn't have to do any interviews. So me and my friend had a lot of time to spare, as well as access to lots of free beer. The problem was that the festival had a sponsor deal with Maes. Now, you probably need to be a Belgian to appreciate the difference between a good beer and a bad one, but believe me: Maes is bad. So we went out to a shop, bought some Jupiler (good beer) and went back to the festival, knowing fully well that important people and other freeloaders with a backstage pass don't get frisked. Soon, we were happily enjoying our beers in the backstage lounge (they had plastic plants and even a little fountain). Suddenly, an anxious-looking guy in a suit came to us and said "You can't do that!". Can't do what? "Drink that-thàt beer." Pardon? "This festival is being sponsored by my company Maes and here you are drinking Jupiler. You took advantage of your backstage pass to smuggle it in." Of course we did. That's what backstage passes are for. "OK, OK, I have a deal: why don't you let me have those cans and I'll bring you two ice-cold Maes beers." And he did. He even managed to find two glasses. It was a good deal for us because our drinks were almost empty and we were already too drunk to taste the difference anyway. We also decided not to tell Mr. Maes about the eight Jupiler cans that were still in my backpack.

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This blog is dedicated to the horror or real-life Spinal Tap that a music festival, a concert or a tour can become. It doesn't matter whether you're an artist, an organiser, a volunteer or a visitor. Sometimes, it just goes terribly wrong...